


Of Things Unsaid

by hayffietrash



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayffietrash/pseuds/hayffietrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It cannot be worse than this. Turns out it could. Haymitch finds out what happened to his escort. MockingJay. Hayffie series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He did try. The lack of alcohol made his mind fuzzy but it didn’t stop him from thinking of her. His sub-conscious probably knew it too. She was more than an escort. _His escort._ He had just been denying it all along.

 

Sometimes he tried falling asleep, though his mind couldn’t help but wonder where she was. _Safe_ has been such a foreign word these days years. As long as Snow is in rule, no one is ever safe. It was stupid to think leaving her behind was a good idea. Now he couldn’t stop thinking of her. _She is annoying like that. IS._ He hoped she was still alive.

 

Guilty by association. There is no doubt she was captured along with Peeta.

_Is she dead? Probably not, they would have made a spectacle out of it if they could._

There was no way to tell.  His hands are shaking. He felt hot yet cold, tired yet awake at the same time.

The truth is he didn’t know what to feel.

 

There was so much he had hoped he did. But it is too late now.

He tried focusing on the rebellion but now while he is going through his withdrawal, he is of no use anywhere and his mind just wouldn’t stop thinking. He was sweating all over. His head ached, his body was shivering, he couldn’t feel his limbs. He kept his eyes shut and wrapped his blanket around his body. _Too hot._ Blanket off. _Too cold._ Blanket on. _Too hot._

Ugh. He let out a frustrated grunt and rolled down onto the floor. Cold cement against his body and he put his blanket on again. If only he could get a sip of alcohol. _Just one._ But he was too weak to move. This must be what death feels like.

 _It cannot be worse than this._ He thought.

 

Turns out it could.


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn’t remember what happen. It felt like weeks.

Sometimes he would dream about the arena. Sometimes about Katniss. Sometimes about his family. Sometimes about her. Sometimes about them.

Sometimes he doesn’t dream. Sometimes he don’t know how to differentiate between his dreams and reality anymore.

One day his dreams stopped. His tremors were still there but he felt better. His head still ached but his mind was clearer. He showered, changed and got out of his room for the first time in - he didn’t know how long but it felt long enough.

 

He headed to command first. Everyone stopped to look at him.

"You look like death." Katniss spoke.

"Felt worse. How long was I out for?"

"A couple of days." Plutarch replied. "We rescued Peeta and the others." He continued.

"Others?"

"Annie and Johanna. And no, we couldn’t find her. I know she was on your list but she wasn’t there when we went in."

"Her?" Katniss asked.

"It's okay." He rubbed his face. It wasn’t. 

"Maybe Effie wasn’t captured at all." They both knew it was a lie.

 

"What's our next step?" He needed something to distract him from thinking about her.

 

He couldn’t stop thinking of her either way. A million possibilities ran through his mind. But one stood out. He knew it almost as a fact when Plutarch said they couldn’t find her. She's gone.

They definitely have no use for her now.

 

He wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t hallucinating. He couldn’t pretend it wasn’t real.

Maybe being sober was worse.


	3. Chapter 3

Effie Trinket has smelled like a lot of things throughout the years. But one stuck.

Even though she changed up her scents quite often, there was one that was uniquely her. Maybe she liked it. Maybe she knew he liked it.

 

Sometimes she smelled like sickly sweet strawberries. Sometimes she smelled like the garden vomited flowers on her. Sometimes she smelled like she was dipped in spices. Sometimes like she bathed in lemons. Sometimes it was musky and warm. Sometimes she smelled like chocolates.

 

Most times she smelled like Effie.

She was a combination fresh spring mixed with a hint of mahogany teakwood and sometimes fresh coffee.

 

Being underground trapped in a place filled with recycled air, what he would give just to breathe in fresh air again.

What he would give breathe in her scent again. What he would give just to see her again.

 

This was the end. They won.

He found fresh air and clear blue skies again.

He found her but not her clear blue eyes.

They were lifeless. She was lifeless. Left to rot in one of the cells along with the others in the prep team.

 

The world wasn’t great after the war but it was going to get better.

He wasn’t better either but he was healing.

She would want that. 

 

People told him he deserved this life. A life of a victor. A life of a survivor.

Maybe it was true. He didn’t deserve her.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes he would dream of her face.

 

Sometimes it was the escort.

Crazy blue wig that looked like plastic. Ridiculous dress that looked too uncomfortable. Heels that looked like they could kill. Nails so long and colourful they looked poisonous.

 

Sometimes it was her.

Her eyes so blue. Her hair so soft. Her lips so gentle.

Her nose that once breathed. Her hands that once touched.

Her heart that once beat.

 

He missed her. More than he wants to admit.

It has been a few months since the end of the war. Katniss and him kept to their own houses most of the time. Sometimes she would come in to check on him and bring him food. She tried to find him something to do but there was no avail.

 

He tried reading. But it reminded him of her so he stopped.

Most days he would sleep and lie in. Some days he would head out to the meadow and spend the whole day staring at the sky. It was soothing. Sometimes he forget. 

 

He lost it the day Peeta came back. Peeta brought back a piece of her. A piece of Effie.

Peeta said Annie found it in Finnick's drawer and figured he would want it back.

He didn’t want it back. He didn’t want it.

But he took it anyway.

 

He brought it to the meadow that day. Buried it under the tree where he kept his mother's possessions too.

 

It hurt. But Haymitch was never one to cry.

 

He started drinking again that day.


	5. Chapter 5

He couldn’t stop thinking about the bracelet. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.  
Even when he was at the meadow. It has been three days since he buried it.  
It felt wrong. Burying another piece of her.  
He found himself going to the meadow everyday since the "burial".

The fourth day, it was drizzling outside.  
He couldn’t take it anymore. He ran back to the tree and dug it out.  
He tried his best to clean it with the rainwater and his shirt.   
He slipped it back onto his wrist.   
It fit so perfectly . Like how she fit him so perfectly.She was another missing piece in his life. It almost felt like he was getting back a piece of him.  
He cried for the first time in years. 

He wanted a drink. Soaking wet, he walked to the market to grab a few bottles of liquor before heading home.

It felt like he never stopped.   
He embraced the burn of the alcohol against his throat like an old friend.  
For a while he forgot what to think. He forgot about her.  
It felt so wrong. Yet it felt so good.

He stopped dreaming about her for a few weeks.  
The kids came in a few days ago?, he wasn’t sure.  
One grabbed the bottle from his hands and the other tried to haul him up.  
They dragged him under the cold shower.   
Katniss was screaming at him, asking him why he started drinking again, he was doing so well.  
Peeta was quiet though. Peeta knows. He laughed.

After a while Katniss gave up and they left.  
He passed out in the bathtub that day. Too lazy to move.

That was a few days ago.  
Today he woke up to her washing the dishes in the kitchen.   
He remained shocked on the sofa. He must be hallucinating. 

But she came back everyday.


	6. Chapter 6

Her voice was the last to go.

It is funny how it all turned out. He used to hate her chirpy voice. It was too cheery, too enthusiastic and too out of place in a world which was so cruel and dark.

But now, he didn’t want to forget her voice. He has forgotten too much of her. Her face. Her hair. Her body. Her scent.  Her mannerisms. This is the last part of her he is clinging to with his life.

She had been forgotten by too many. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he did love her. Maybe he just feel too lonely without her around. He didn’t want her to be forgotten. She has to live at least somewhere even if it is just in his mind.

 

At first he tried. Tried he did. But alcohol made his mind fuzzy again.

At first, he started hallucinating. He saw her. He saw them. Sometimes, it showed their past. Sometimes, it showed her being tortured. Sometimes, it was a future that could have been.

At first, he hated it. He didn’t want to remember. It hurt too much. He knew one day it would stop and he would hurt all over again.

 

But slowly, he welcomed her presence. He drank more, hoping it would keep her there.

Slowly, he got used to her presence.

 

One day, it slowly started to fade.

He threw a fit. He suspected the kids watering down his alcohol.

He drank more. But he still couldn’t see her face. It was clouded.

Then, she started losing her brightness.

She didn’t talk so much anymore.

 

One day, he couldn’t see her at all. He could only hear her voice in his mind.

Then he realised it was just his own thoughts in her voice.

 

He didn’t want to forget her now. It was the closest thing he had left of her apart from the golden bangle.

 

Then came the day when he couldn’t  hear her voice anymore.

He drank till he lost consciousness.

 

Maybe it was time's way of telling him to let go.

The next day he got out of the house for the first time in almost two years.

He stumbled into the kids house and declared that he wanted to stop drinking.

 

He couldn’t see her anymore. Alcohol lost its meaning. He lost her all over again.


End file.
